


When Tables Turn

by CrimeAlley1048



Category: Batfamily - Fandom, Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 19:27:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4973278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimeAlley1048/pseuds/CrimeAlley1048
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damian is sick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Tables Turn

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of a sequel to DPS (Drake Protection Squad)

“Hey! Get over here.”  
Tim froze, halfway down the hall. He hadn’t thought that anybody was home, but there was Jason, standing in Damian’s doorway— he motioned for Tim to walk over.  
Instead, Tim raised his hands in the air and backed away. “Nope,” he told him. “Nope, I’m good. I ate, I slept, I’m fine, I’m leaving.” He stowed his glass of orange juice behind an ornamental vase, just in case Jason got anymore ideas. “Bye.”  
“Tim.”  
“I told you I’m fine.”  
“Yeah, but he’s not.” Jason ducked back under the doorway. “Come give me a hand.”  
Reluctantly, Tim followed him inside. He staggered a little bit on the threshold because the room was _hot_ — somebody had cranked the heat up into the nineties and the curtains were all closed. The bed was piled with so many blankets that Tim could barely see over the top.  
“Damian?”  
The pile of blankets shifted, and there was a muffled voice from underneath. “Why is he in my room?”  
“And good morning to you too.” Tim wandered over to the bed. “What’s with him?”  
“He’s sick,” Jason told him.  
“I’m _cold_ ,” Damian said.  
He was almost completely underneath his covers— they were pulled up all the way to his nose, leaving just his eyes and the top of his head visible. His hair was a mess. It was kind of cute in a slightly murderous, Damian sort of way, and Tim couldn’t help smiling a little. Damian seemed to know what he was thinking.  
“I will murder you and your entire family.”  
“So… your family.”  
“That’s not what I said, is it?”  
Jason threw another blanket on top of him. “Rude. Good now?”  
“No.” Damian’s teeth were starting to chatter. “Cold.”  
“I got it.” Tim walked out of the door and back down the hall to Bruce’s room. He pulled the comforter— widely acknowledged to be the best blanket in the manor— off of Bruce’s bed and dragged it back to Damian’s room in time to hear Jason talking.  
“Believe me, I know, but the only way I can make this room hotter is by literally lighting the house on fire. Which I could be persuaded to do, honestly, but I’m thinking you don’t want that. Oh hey—” he’d noticed Tim. “—good idea.” They threw the comforter on top of the Damian’s pile.  
He pulled it all the way over his head. “Okay, now leave.”  
“No.” Tim tugged at the top of the blanket, trying to uncover Damian’s face. “C’mere.”  
“Go away, Drake.”  
“Let me see.” Tim pulled the comforter away and stuck a hand on Damian’s forehead. “You’ve got a fever. Did you take something for that?”  
Damian glared at him. Tim turned to Jason instead. “Did he?”  
“I don’t think so.”  
“We can start with that, then. Damian, are you hungry?”  
“No.”  
“Are you sure?”  
Damian flipped the comforter back over his face and rolled across his bed, away from Tim, carrying his mountain of blankets with him.  
“I can make you a sandwich or something.”  
“Go away _please_?”  
“Nope.” Tim sat down on the edge of the bed that Damian had abandoned. “You know what happens when you don’t take care of yourself?” Damian sighed pointedly, but Tim kept going. “Other people do it for you.”


End file.
